


Going Underground

by QwillReign



Series: Eternity [1]
Category: Septimus Heap - Angie Sage
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, One Shot, Sad, Short One Shot, Stream of Consciousness, deep, remembering the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:01:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27679793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QwillReign/pseuds/QwillReign
Summary: Marcellus deals with the death of his sister.
Relationships: Marcellus Pye & Princess Esmerelda
Series: Eternity [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2172039
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	Going Underground

Marcellus had lost his baby sister. it wasn't the first time he had thought he had lost her, that Mama would kill her, or that she would simply never return. But this? This was final. It was complete.

His baby sister, gone. She had been ill, yes, it was not a surprise, but Marcellus did not like the prospect of living without her. Esmerelda had been sweet, the only member of his family he had liked.

Papa had died many years ago, and Marcellus had not been sad. He had been gone most of his early life, and too scared of Mama to connect with Marcellus, or with his darling baby sister Esmerelda.

Mama was horrible. He had not wanted her to live forever, and sincerely hoped that her spirit would remain locked in the Sealed room for eternity, although from what his long ago apprentice had said, perchance she did not. Marcellus hoped he was misremembering that fact. He did not love Mama, no one did. He was not sad at her passing in the slightest.

His little sisters, the twins, Elizabeth and Eleanor, Marcellus had never gotten to know. They were small, he vaguely remembered, and had round cheeks and beautiful eyes, until Mama had had them killed. He would have loved his baby sisters, he thought, if only he had had the chance. Esmerelda had once told him she heard them wailing at night. for a second, Marcellus thought that he would have liked to hear it, for they had never made a sound in his presence. But the moment passed, and he mourned those his mother had taken.

His darling Broda was gone as well. She had kept her position until her dying day, and was ever faithful. After her chosen successor had come to Marcellus with the news, he had considered locking himself away, then and there. But Esmerelda had still been there, had still needed his support, so he stayed aboveground, working with Hugo to develop new Physik cures, and working alone on whatever Alchemie project pleased him (with the exception of anything that had come close to the Great Alchemie Disaster.)

Then Esmerelda died. Marcellus had nothing tying him to the world, and there was nothing to keep him there out of necessity, or love, or belonging. He might have stayed for his nieces, Daisy and Boo, but he could not see how they would be of any need of him. He might have stayed for his apprentices, but one was in another time, and Hugo did not need Marcellus any longer. So Marcellus convinced himself, so he began to believe. But still, Marcellus lived on. He built for himself a place of residence, where he could venture aboveground if need be, and retrieve supplies. He went through the motions, brewing cures and visiting his nieces until his age was noticeable, unusual.

Marcellus faked his death, he retreated underground. He was becoming old, and unrecognizable. His hair was pure white, his face covered in wrinkles. He walked slowly now and did not wish to be seen. Since Esmerelda's death, he had been storing dried, preserved, and pickled foods in his hiding place. No, not hiding, waiting. He was waiting for something, and he had to remember what he was waiting for five hundred years. He had bought an item charmed to produce fresh water and a few that would help him cook and create food. The watering device was a rather rude one, but It did the job. 

As time went on, Marcelus could not always remember what he was hiding from. No, not hiding, he told himself, waiting. He was waiting for his apprentice to return. Marcellus began walking. he walked under the moat, and in tunnels that hadn't seen the light of day for many, many years. There was no more Great Fyre to tend, no more Alchemie to be done, and Marcellus simply walked. He did not often eat or drink, he found himself needing it less and less. He reminded himself constantly of what he must not forget to do, and when he forgot when he must do it, Marcellus walked the necessary paths nightly, to ensure he would not forget. For hundreds of years, the only thing under the Castle was Marcellus, always waiting, always walking. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think of this random little snippet!


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